Disclaimer: I in no way own anything related to Instant Star, nor do I own the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson's Addicted.
Addicted
It's like you're a drug
It's like you're a demon I can't face down
Startled out of my sleep, I glanced around my room, eyes landing on my ringing phone.
Throwing the covers off, I softly padded toward my dresser, the room around me lit eerily by the flashing screen. I grabbed the phone, silencing it quickly, not bothering to glance at the display.
I already knew who it was.
It's like I'm stuck
It's like I'm running from you all the time
Tossing the phone back down, I was halfway back to bed when the room lit up again, the flashing creating shadows.
Why can't he just give up?
I yanked the phone off of the surface, wandering back to bed as I saw my message notification—Tommy again.
I'd tried to avoid him when he got back from Montana. I tried to keep him away from me, I switched producers, spent less time writing at the studio; but it never worked. Wherever I went, he seemed to follow, asking for another chance.
And stupidly I gave it to him. I thought we'd be together—a real couple. Unfortunately, that wasn't a part of his plan.
And I know I let
You have all the power
It's like the only company I seek
Is misery all around
Months went by, and I was still just another piece of ass.
To him I was just another fuck buddy—a glorified booty call. Someone to keep him warm when he couldn't get his flavor of the week to put out.
It was a routine really.
Once or twice a week, I'd get a call or text at some unreasonable hour, saying he was outside my apartment, asking to be let in. I'd try to ignore him, but it never worked. He always got in, and he always got off—then was out the door before I woke up the next morning.
Not exactly what I pictured when we first started our no strings arrangement, but I just couldn't stop seeing him.
No matter what he did, I couldn't give him up.
It's like you're a leach
Sucking the life from me
Every time he paraded his latest conquest around G-major, it made me want to scream. I hated seeing them kiss, and hold hands.
I didn't understand why that couldn't be me.
He doesn't even come near me when other people are around—he doesn't even talk to me. Am I too severely damaged for him to be with me in public?
I hated knowing that he was sleeping with them too, that they were getting what I was. I hated the thought that the newest girl might be the one who keeps him from coming to me. I hated thinking that I could lose him, and never really get to say goodbye.
But most of all, I hated the look he gave me behind their backs, letting me know he'd be over that night.
It's like I can't breathe
Without you inside of me
Trying to catch my breath, I slid down to the floor behind the receptionist's desk, hearing a hollow thud as my head banged against the filing cabinet underneath it.
It still didn't knock the images of what I'd seen out of my head.
His new artist, Karma—the one he had gotten after I asked for a new producer, the new instant star—laid out over a sound board, her panties pulled down, and her almost non-existent mini-skirt bunched around her hips, crying out as she was brought over the edge.
And he was the one standing in between her legs, making her scream. It was time to end our arrangement.
And I know I let you
Have all the power
And I realize I'm never gonna
Quit you over time
As I left G-major that day, I passed him in the alley. I hurried past, trying to not look, trying to keep myself from being hurt, or worse, giving in.
Next thing I knew, I was up against the cold brick, his tongue in my mouth and hands reaching under my skirt. I weakly protested, but he knew that deep down I wanted it. He unbuttoned my shirt, pulling the cups of my bra down, allowing him access to my breasts. He had his jeans unbuttoned and my panties pulled to the side before I even knew what was happening.
Soon I cried out as he thrust himself inside me, lifting me against the rough brick.
It's like I'm lost
It's like I'm giving up slowly
He'd told me he'd be over that night as he buttoned up his jeans, leaving before I had time to straighten out my clothing.
I stared at my reflection in the water puddle on the ground, looking at my disheveled appearance, wondering why I let him do this do me.
Wondering how long I'd have to wait for him to be inside me again.
It's like you're a ghost
That's haunting me
Leave me alone
I sat and waited for my phone to ring—watching it lay silent and dark across the room from me.
It never moved—he didn't show up like he said he would, he must have gotten a better offer from another girl.
I lay awake all night, with some sick fascination that he'd show up after banging her to be with me.
Silly me.
And I know these voices in
My head are mine alone
And I know I'll never change my ways
If I don't give you up now
By the time dawn broke, I'd had no sleep, and he'd never called. I found out later that day he'd been with Karma last night.
I knew because they burst into the bathroom while I was in the stall, completely unaware of my presence, talking about the things they'd done last night; him telling her what he wanted to do to her now.
I silently debated staying in the stall, just waiting for them to finish, trying to block the sounds from my ears.
I couldn't.
I quickly burst from the stall, trying hard not to glance as the two stood froze against the row of sinks, both half undressed. Grabbing my purse off of the end of the counter, I turned to leave, hearing him call out behind me, following me as he straightened out his clothing.
Turning just before I went through the door, I told him bitterly that our deal was off.
Slamming the door in his face, I ran for the parking lot, not wanting anyone to see the tears falling down my face.
I'm hooked on you
I need a fix, I can't take it
Just one more hit
I promise I can deal with it
It had been three days since I'd told him it was over. Four days since I'd been with him.
My body ached for his touch, for him to be inside me.
I needed him.
I needed him more than I needed air, but I had to do this, I had to be strong. But each time my phone rang, each time he looked at me in the hallway at G-major, my resolve broke a little more.
I wanted him back.
I'll handle it, quit it
Just one more time, then that's it
Just a little bit more to get me through this
I set my phone down after hitting send.
I texted him this time. It had been five days since I called it off—I couldn't even make it a week.
I wondered if he'd show up, if he was busy—if he was still screwing her.
I'd avoided the two of them in the studio. If I didn't see them having sex, then I could pretend they weren't; I could fool myself just a little bit more.
I moved out to my kitchen, pouring myself a drink as I waited for him to show up, idly watching TV to pass the time. I wasn't disappointed—fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at my door.
As I pulled it open, and he slipped in, I told him this was the last time.
It's like I can't breathe
It's like I can't see anything
Nothing but you
I'm addicted to you
He stayed the night, even making me breakfast the next morning. But I held strong, telling him it was over between us for good—that I couldn't do it anymore.
But he could see the uncertainty in my eyes, and he didn't fight it. He quietly left, and I slipped into the bathroom, wanting a shower to wash the feeling of filth and guilt off of my skin.
I knew he would call that night, that he would show up at my door. But I would be strong. I wouldn't give in, I told myself, repeating it in my head like a mantra.
I couldn't give in, I though, if I did, I'll never stop.
It's like I can't think
Without you interrupting me
Ringing filled the room, waking me up.
At two am, no one else would be calling me.
I willed myself to stay in bed, ignoring the loud beep that meant I had a voice mail as I stared at the ceiling.
In my thoughts
In my dreams
You've taken over me
Twenty minutes later, I still lay on my back, facing upwards, watching, unblinking as light flashed through the room for the fourth time.
I'd spent the time thinking of everything that had happened between us.
He had changed so much since I won the contest. Or maybe he hadn't; maybe the way I worshipped him when I was fifteen blinded me to the man underneath the blue eyes and dark hair.
The first stolen kisses at my birthday party, watching him drive off, seeing him with Karma last week—the images raced through my head, like a movie without sound.
Another beep from my phone snapped me from my reverie.
Where had it all gone so wrong?
It's like I'm not me
It's like I'm not me
I'm not strong enough to lose him; not smart enough to rid my life of his hurtful actions.
Slipping out from under the covers, I walked softly towards to door, opening it to let him in.
This is the last time, I told myself.
Deep down, I knew it was a lie.